


heat seeking missile

by bloodylotus



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, LOTS of injury description, M/M, Post Episode 9, betaed but still might be a little rough sowwy, hand holding :]
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29915568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodylotus/pseuds/bloodylotus
Summary: Their fingers were interlocked on top of the hospital issued blanket, bruised knuckles against chronic kitchen burns.The eye of the storm post episode 9.
Relationships: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom
Comments: 11
Kudos: 212





	heat seeking missile

**Author's Note:**

> helo sk8 community i hope you like my take on them :}  
> i would also like it to be known that some of this is speculation based on my experience in the emergency/icu branch in medicine and yes i do know that cherrys injuries are not treated this severely in canon but thats ok this is my world <3
> 
> this fic is dedicated to celeste @ogshipping i hope u enjoy lovebug!!!!!

Artificial light fragmented around the smoking tails of a throbbing headache. For an indecipherable amount of time, the pain was his sharpest point of perception, overtaking every sight and sound like a rushing wave devastating a peaceful beach. He couldn’t tell what hurt the most: his head, his arm, his ankle, or his chest. Between fluttering blinks, he watched his aching chest heave in his peripheral vision; with every inhale, he tasted iron and salt on the inside of his balaclava and with every exhale, he made a valiant effort not to cry out.

Voices made it to him as if through cotton, somewhat audible and yet completely unheard. His mouth moved, his teeth chattered, but he couldn’t make a single sound past hisses of agony. He wanted to scream and shout and wail- anything to distract him from the sensation of tacky blood sticking his hair to the cement. But he couldn’t move at all. Adrenaline would kick in soon and it wouldn’t hurt anymore. Until then, Kaoru felt sick.

His senses sharpened at the same time he heard rapidly approaching footsteps, and if he could have turned his head, he would have. He tried to roll over instead, kicking his right leg over his body to push up, but found that his right arm was completely numb. It hurt dully when he tried to move, but he couldn’t manage to move it enough to make a difference. He was, in every meaning of the word, utterly helpless. A sitting duck in the middle of the road just begging to be hit all over again. 

There was no pity party to be held, however, because the footsteps dissolved into nothing as someone knelt next to him. No matter how hard he tried, his voice wouldn’t crescendo past a weak mumble, wet and pathetic when he told them that his hair was stuck. It was enough to get his point across, it seemed, because his head was gently lifted high enough for his hair to be gathered away from the puddle of blood beneath it. A tenderness he couldn’t fathom deserving.

Epinephrine rushing through his body or not, pain shot through every receptor he was aware of when his right arm was bent to rest over his stomach. He’d suffered plenty of scrapes and sprains in his formative years, but this was an entirely new breed of pain. It made him dizzy like a spinning roller coaster juggling his stomach on the precipice of nausea and excitement. Distantly, it was clear as day that Kaoru’s right arm was broken in at least one place. Even he could tell that there was a lot more wrong than just a headache.

Like he weighed nothing at all, Kaoru was hefted into stable arms, supported by trembling hands. His body was cradled against a warm body, shielded from the harsh midnight wind and the harsher knowledge of his own inferiority. His right foot hung limply, zori falling off at the slightest agitation and his pulse was pounding in the swollen curve of his ankle. Kaoru moaned in protest, tensing up until everything started to hurt again. Panic kicked back in, and his breaths stuttered to a few paces short of hyperventilating.

“You’re okay.” His rescuer murmured, familiar and terrified, “You’re safe now.” 

“Ko...jiro…” Kaoru forced through broken teeth, left hand groping for something to cling onto and finding only loose fabric. He held it like a lifeline, digging his nails in and searching for something to ground himself to. 

Kojiro held him tighter, standing from the soiled pavement. “Just breathe slow.” His voice was tight with so many things- anger and concern and sadness and fear. Every step they took was burdened with the severity of Kaoru’s injuries, with what it could have meant for both of his careers. They were met by a car, Kaoru was fairly certain he knew who it belonged to, and surrounded by tense chatter as they sped away from the scene of the crime. The road was bumpy and uneven, but Kojiro held them both still through every pothole and skidding turn.

It was almost calming, the thrum of the engine, the beat of Kojiro’s heart by his ear. He was safe and sound, everything would be okay, just as long as-

“Mhhhhf…! Carla? Is-” Steady breaths ratcheted once again, composure thrown to the wind. 

Instead of saying anything to soothe him, Kojiro guided his hand to rest on his board, and all remaining stress bled from Kaoru in an instant. He went limp as a ragdoll, surrendering to the television static kissing the edges of his perception if only for a little while. Just until the ride was over, he swore he’d act better when it was. 

If his vision was dark behind his eyelids, it was black as the void when he passed out, fingers loosening their death grip and head lolling into the crook of Kojiro’s elbow. The white noise finally dissipated and everything was eerily quiet in his head.

He woke up to the new worst pain he had ever felt, squeezing the rail of his stretcher as hard as physically possible while his right elbow was reset. Around a mouthful of sour gauze, he shouted with it, eyes wet and heart hammering like the beat of a hummingbird’s wings. It hurt. It hurt _so fucking bad_. He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand how angry he was with himself. His shame burned as much as the tears he blinked away.

“You’re doing amazing.” Kojiro’s voice hummed in his ear, and it took him that long to realize he was held in place by the same reliable arms that had scooped him off the pavement. “They’re almost done, it’s almost over.”

If the following minutes were short, Kaoru didn’t know, strung along by pain so bright it was nearly impossible to keep his vision from swimming. Needless to say, he was injured enough to win an opportunity to stay overnight for observation, and the ride to his room was lonely to an embarrassing degree. He’d never have the face to confess to the relief he felt when Kojiro was already there by the time he rolled through the door. 

His bed was uncomfortable and his room was both humid and cold, a disgusting combination that made him want to crawl out of his skin. Kojiro sat in a comically small chair he dragged out of the corner, legs folded up against the side of the bed and hand held prisoner by Kaoru’s. Their fingers were interlocked on top of the hospital issued blanket, bruised knuckles against chronic kitchen burns. 

Pain medicine softened the throbbing and aching, putting it on the backburner in comparison to the room of elephants before them. For a long time, neither of them spoke, content to bask in one another’s company and recover from the emotional toll of the evening. The digital clock blinked as minutes floated by, full of muffled sounds from the hallway and dubiously comfortable silence. 

One deep breath knocked something loose in Kaoru’s chest, tugging invisible scars and plucking his heartstrings. He exhaled on a heavy sigh, fingers tightening and expression pulling into a grimace. Kojiro hummed as if to ask what was wrong, thumb tracing the curve where his wrist and thumb met.

“It hurts.” Kaoru said with a horrible small voice, as if that could possibly clue into what exactly was hurting him so badly. 

“I know.” Kojiro replied simply, knowing just what. His free hand trailed along the bedrail, hesitant to touch, before resting heavily over the externally unblemished skin over Kaoru’s heart. The weight pushed broken pieces into place, unable to hold them there when he pulled back.

One blink and a lone tear skated over Kaoru’s temple and wet his hairline. He squeezed tighter, willing Kojiro not to let go of him just yet. It wasn’t nearly enough to keep him there, and their fingers slipped apart under the pretense of Kojiro receiving a text. His phone had been dead for over an hour, and it was clear by the distinct lack of noise it’d been making in his pocket. Obviously, he was offering a moment of privacy for Kaoru to let go of the tears he was holding in, a moment to being as upset as he wanted without anyone to judge.

Instead of crying for himself, Kaoru looked down at his hand, flexing his fingers and considering how they felt all alone. Kojiro was still right next to him, still perfectly in reach, but he felt so far away. Mountains rose between them, jagged and unkind to haggard emotions. Letting go was a cut thread dangling him over the edge and it was almost too much to bear among the anxiety consuming him from the pit of his stomach outward.

The spaces between his fingers were warm where Kojiro’s had rested, and Kaoru had never realized how cold it was without them. Without thinking, he reached for something to cling onto, catching the fabric of Kojiro’s shirt, then the hair tied at the nape of his neck. It was soft and well cared for; Kaoru allowed himself only the smallest of smiles as he wriggled closer to lace his fingers higher. Everything was so… Kojiro, so familiar, so kind to the touch. Such a comfort in such an unfortunate situation. Such a pillar of asylum, even as the world frayed at its edges around them. 

“You.” He started, then distracted himself scratching lightly like he was petting a dog. Perhaps he was a little bit tired, too. He’d had a busy night.

“Me.” Kojiro smiled as well, leaning closer to reduce strain on Kaoru’s good shoulder. “What about me?”

“Don’t look at me like that.” Kaoru twisted his wrist to tug a little, as if to punish Kojiro for his poor conduct. Then he went right back to stroking him like a treasured pet, eyes soft and gaze fond in the dim lighting. 

“Like what?” Kojiro leaned against the bedrail, much closer than necessary , face printed by the same dumbfounded affection. 

“Idiot.” Kaoru squeezed his eyes shut for a short moment, willing himself not to get embarrassed by the horrible amount of vulnerability he was showing. “Thank you.”

“Oh, am I hearing you right? Are you thanking me, Blossom?” Even as he teased, his cheeks colored faintly, eyes practically sparkling.

“Not anymore. You can eat shit.” Everything hurt, but he forced himself to laugh breathily, if only to ignore the situation at hand. 

Kojiro grinned at him, plucking Kaoru’s hand out of his hair to hold it between both of his. “You’re welcome. Just glad I got to you before you passed out on us. _That_ would’ve been scary.”

That sobered the conversation considerably, narrowing the topic to the grisly events preceding Kaoru’s hospital admission. He nodded, not entirely comfortable acknowledging the extent of his injuries before he was allowed the privacy to have a brief meltdown over them. All that remained between them was warm hands on cold, pulses racing each other around the room, and breaths in total sync. It wasn’t ideal, but it was enough to lull Kaoru half asleep. 

“Rain check on tonight, huh?” Kojiro smiled, but it was the furthest thing from easygoing. His hands had lain Kaoru’s on top of the itchy blanket, folded in his lap as if he were paying his respects. 

Kaoru scoffed at him, even though it rattled in his sore ribs. “As if. You won’t avoid me so easily.” 

At last, a genuine laugh rang through the hollow room like an erupting volcano. It unraveled tension like a poorly knitted scarf, and his smile cut a little deeper. “I’ll come back in the morning, get some sleep.” And then Kojiro was by the door, backlit with pale yellow and gaudy paint. He looked like he was in a hurry, like he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from staying if he didn’t leave as soon as he could. 

Kaoru’s heart monitor beeped feebly as he peeled electrodes off, motivated by spite (and maybe a little bit of something else).

**Author's Note:**

> my twitter is @rnoshang if you like me :]


End file.
